Its not the same anymore
I fumble my bandaids in the office
“We understand your upset, but enjoy recess, you are still a child”
My eyes desintigrate into the cells of the inanimate object
They become little specs of dust, little nothings

What is recess, who is this child that occupies
That …...I look up, and there is a girl “Come play”
I am only dust, so I do not play ,
I must be dust or else I am really her.

What are jump ropes,
what sanity do they give to the girl
under the hieroglyphics of the father’s face
as he makes noises as he growls and tears

What do people do,
with jump ropes...
after their clothes have been torn
It wasn’t shower time.
Bath time.
Why was my clothes supposed to be off for this ritual
The one he called love.

The ropes aren’t the same anymore,
the laughter falls into their united larynx
That this dust I am ...
I am no longer a member of The child
the childen...where where where
In this sea of dust that I am in,

where is the meaning of the child.

Now I remember the rope,
I remember the rope.
I remember the laughter
the larynx
the barette in my hair

But now I am the girl the child
but instead they tell me...
“You are too big for that”
“You are an adult now”

Now I touch the jump ropes...
........ and they fall down

I touch my hair...
...... and the barettes become nothing

I touch my lips
and there is red tinted on them
For the Daddies
for the daddies.

Please let me go
let me go let me goto recess
I’m sorry
I’m sorryI got lost in the dust

Let me come back
let me come back before the red lips
before the thorn he punctured in me

I didn’t ask him to
please don’t deny me
please....

its too late.

Big girl.

Too early for the thorns
now the thorns meddle with the jump ropes...
and the jump ropes call ...
.....to a woman

with no face....and...
no love

Alone and..

growing into a shell of lies.